


Return to You

by muses_circle



Series: We All Fall series [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Disability, Episode: s05e02 Good God Y'all!, Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, F/M, Friends help friends, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle
Summary: Friends don't walk out on each other. That right was reserved for those she loved.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Emma Boudreaux
Series: We All Fall series [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059086
Kudos: 1





	Return to You

**Author's Note:**

> While I don’t own any character belonging to Kripke, I do own the girl. Her mistakes are mine. Takes place after during 5.02 and 5.03 on the show. Based on the song "Lay Me Down" by The Frames.

Anyone with eyes could tell Bobby Singer was struggling to accept the loss of his legs. With an aching heart, Emma watched him maneuver in the wheelchair towards the table, and flinched at the flashes of despair on his face those times he forgot and tried to stand. His mind needed time to make the adjustment, to forget the natural inclination to move independently of a machine. In the meantime, Bobby had fallen into himself, a deep depression that rivaled anything Emma had seen before.  
  
Since she had brought Bobby home three weeks before, she watched, and prayed, and hoped he would bounce back. The old Bobby was strong and sure, sarcastic yet sincere. Never one to give up on anything, no matter the cost.  
  
The Bobby who sat in his living room most of each day, morosely staring out the front window, was the shadow of the man she knew. He existed, eating and sleeping because he had to. This threadbare reality he wove around him was too much to bear at times.  
  
Part of her wondered if he _wanted_ to live. His doctors agreed that Bobby would probably never walk again, and for a hunter – someone who lived to track down evil and save others – that had to be tantamount to a death sentence.  
  
The man had barely spoken to her since the Winchesters left the hospital, but Emma refused to abandon him to his grief. Instead, she threw herself into making the transition easier for Bobby and his new life – everything from his medications to fitting his truck with hand grips so he could learn how to drive again.  
  
Through it all, Bobby glowered and occasionally barked obscenities towards her; but Emma suspected beneath the crusty exterior lay someone who appreciated the assistance, as well as the company. The truth was, Bobby shouldn’t be alone, not with him so obviously in mourning for his new physical state. She couldn’t fault him for it, either. Having your life destroyed because of a demon? She wasn’t sure she would handle it better, either. However, no matter how much it hurt to watch him break away from the word, leaving a friend to fend for himself wasn’t in her makeup.  
  
Which was why the Winchesters’ absence worried her. Where the hell were they? Surely they could be in the neighborhood long enough to stop in to see him? Her troubled thoughts led her to inquire about them not long after they started eating dinner.  
  
Bobby stopped picking at his food and shot her a funny look. “You’re kidding, right?”  
  
“I’m serious, Bobby,” Emma replied and put her fork down. “I’m a poor substitute for their friendship.”  
  
“They’re fighting the Apocalypse, Emma.” Bobby’s voice was angry, almost envious. “That’s a little more important than an old man in a wheelchair.”  
  
Emma opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “And don’t start with your ‘friends don’t let friends recover alone’ diatribe. They can’t do anything, either.” Bobby backed away from the table and rolled out of the kitchen without a backward glance.  
  
Unsure whether to laugh or cry, Emma resumed her dinner, eating the last couple bites on her plate before she began clean-up detail. Perhaps Sam and Dean were wise to stay away and give Bobby his space – shouldn’t she do that, as well? Would Bobby notice if she decided to leave?  
  
Her gut told her to stick around. Bobby needed a friend, even if he didn’t think he did. Besides, Sam had asked her to keep an eye on the hunter; didn’t that count for something?  
  
Emma tried not to think about Sam as she carried the dirty dishes to the sink. Where was he? Was he still tormenting himself over bringing Lucifer back? How had that happened, anyway? Was the Prince of Darkness the reason why Sam and Dean remained incommunicado – or was that just more fallout from the argument she and Sam had such a long time ago?  
  
Her head pounding from the barrage of unanswered questions, Emma focused her attention on the small stack of dishes, paying only slight attention to the phone ringing. However, when she caught Bobby mention Dean’s name, she quickly dried her hands with a hand towel and crossed into the living room.  
  
“She’s here, taking care of me.” Bobby looked at her as he spoke into the phone.  
  
When he spotted her, the hunter pointed towards his other phone in the kitchen. Pick it up and listen, he seemed to suggest.  
  
Frowning, Emma rushed back into the kitchen and carefully picked up the receiver, so as not to clue Dean in that someone was eavesdropping. If Dean was calling, then something was up. Based on the serious look Bobby had shot her, the news was not good.  
  
“Dammit, Dean, what the hell were you thinking?” Bobby’s voice was in stereo – his voice from the other room echoing in the kitchen just as it did in her ear.  
  
“What was I supposed to do, tie him to the back of the Impala?” Dean sounded just as irritated. “Sam wanted out, so I let him have it.”  
  
Emma swallowed hard, her heart pounding. _He wanted out? As in, he’s not hunting anymore?_  
  
Bobby snorted. “Just like that. The world’s coming to an end, so the Winchesters decide to take separate vacations?”  
  
“ _Sam_ wanted to quit, not me. This wasn’t my idea – “  
  
“But you’re still pissed at him and let him go.”  
  
Emma waited on pins and needles for Dean’s response, but it seemed a long time coming. The moment stretched out, and threatened to break her in two. “I’m tired of wondering when he’ll go back to the demon blood and his damn abilities again, Bobby. I can’t focus on anything else.”  
  
“Do you really believe Sam would do that?” Bobby asked.  
  
Another long moment passed, but Dean did not say anything. Emma’s heart sunk when she realized his silence meant he thought Sam would. If Dean believed it, then maybe Sam did, too.  
  
Bobby sighed. “Idjit.”  
  
Emma heard the call click to an end and put the phone back on its cradle. Shutting her eyes, she silently acknowledged the truth. Sam had made his decision: the only person who could change his mind would be himself. Even if she knew where he was, she could not convince him otherwise. It seemed that Sam was running away, but did he believe he could run from himself?  
  
She leaned back against the counter, her mind revisiting the questions that had plagued her earlier. Only this time, she wondered if any of them would ever hear from him again.

“Come on, Bobby. You can do this!” Emma watched as her friend opened the door to his compact car and position himself to make a switch to the driver’s side.  
  
Bobby shot her an irritated glare and eased his body back into his wheelchair. “Since you’re so enthusiastic about it, why don’t you do it?”  
  
She rolled her eyes playfully and crossed her arms. “Tell you what, I’ll walk around to the passenger side. That way, once you’re in, you can take us for a short drive.”  
  
The hint of a smile flitted across his lips, the first time she had seen him show any positive emotion since his accident. “What is this, a first date?” he groused.  
  
“Nah,” she replied with a smile. “Just a drive between friends.” She walked around the front of the car and got in, leaving him to the challenge of getting into the driver’s seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his progress, careful not to let on that she observed in case he needed assistance.  
  
Fortunately, it seemed as though Bobby had begun to grasp the concept of living with a handicap. At least, being able to drive despite the loss of his legs. He grunted and swore under his breath, but he managed to move from his chair to the driver’s seat, then put one leg in at a time. By the time he was fully inside the car, he was breathing heavily from the exertion. Emma thought, however, that she detected the hint of accomplishment about him.  
  
“Good job,” she said and playfully punched him in the arm. “Knew you could do it.”  
  
He grunted but cast a grateful look in her direction. “Now move, Emma. You’re blocking my room to put my chair in the back seat.”

  
A few hours’ worth of starts and stops, of enduring endless streams of swearing, eventually paid off. Not only had Bobby gotten comfortable transferring from his chair to the driver’s seat, but he had begun to master the hand-held device that controlled the gas pedal and brake. He even treated Emma to a short ride, which she believed pleased him just as much as her.  
  
However, the day’s exertions had taken its toll on Bobby. Once back in the house, he had retreated back into his shell, which she had expected. The kind of barrier he had broken had to come with a price: one of acceptance, that he would never walk again. Unable to handle that, he took his place by the window once back inside. She watched him from the doorway to the library – his back to her, no doubt deep in his thoughts and oblivious to anything else.  
  
When the phone rang and Bobby didn’t move to answer it, Emma walked to the other room and grabbed it.  
  
“Emma?” The voice on the other line nearly knocked her off her feet.  
  
“Sam?” she said in disbelief. A little weak in the knees, she moved around the room. Part of her wanted to say more, but she couldn’t find her voice. All she wanted was to hear him speak again, to ensure that he was safe, alive. Maybe then she could begin to think about how to say the words she had longed to utter.  
  
“I thought you’d be back in St. Louis by now,” he said after a moment.  
  
Emma tried to smile, but her heart thumped so hard in her chest. “Bobby needed help settling in, and I didn’t want to leave until he was . . . settled.” _Stop babbling, Emma! Admit it: part of the reason you’re still here is because Sam asked you to take care of Bobby!_  
  
There was a long hesitation on the other end. Then Sam asked, “Can I talk to him?” He sounded distant, as if unsure of her response. Emma thought maybe it was because of his non-hunter status, but she couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection. He wanted Bobby, not her. It was a hard pill to swallow.  
  
Pushing back the hurt, she said, “Sure,” and walked into the other room. She handed Bobby the phone, only giving him the head’s up as to the person on the other line. He took the call without comment.  
  
As Bobby began his conversation with Sam, Emma hung back and listened, her hands griping the back of the couch. Frustration with her relationship with Sam replaced the pain. What would it take for him to listen to her for five minutes? she wondered. How can I say I’m sorry if he won’t stand still long enough to hear me out? If I ever see him again, the only option seems to be to hog-tie him. At least then he would be a captive audience.  
  
Whatever Sam wanted wasn’t sitting well with Bobby, because he pulled the phone from him abruptly and tossed it onto the nearest surface. The soft thump shook her from her dark thoughts.  
  
“Dammit,” Bobby swore under his breath and cast a glance at Emma.  
  
“I guess the ‘Do Not Hunt’ sign on Sam’s forehead isn’t working out so well?” she asked and tried to smile.  
  
Bobby gave her a look. “You could say that.”  
  
She moved around and sat down on the couch. “Did he happen to mention where the trouble is?” Her voice sounded more hopeful that she would like, but she couldn’t help it.  
  
Wheeling around to face her, Bobby frowned. “I’ll call a few friends to help,” he said. “No need for you to go.”  
  
“I _have_ to go,” Emma protested with a sweep of her hands. “Sam and I have some . . . unfinished business. It’s kind of urgent.”  
  
“Some kind of fallout?” Bobby asked slowly.  
  
Emma nodded, unwilling to give out any more than necessary. She didn’t know how much the hunter knew, if anything. Odds were, Sam had kept their fight to himself, just as she had. Telling another person about it now seemed a little _too little, too late_. “Please, Bobby. Where is he?”  
  
“Garber, Oklahoma,” he replied.  
  
She stood and walked over to him. “Thanks,” she whispered and bent down to give him a hug.  
  
However, he brushed her away. “Save that for Sam,” he said.  
  
With a small chuckle, she righted herself. “I’ll only be gone a couple days,” she said.  
  
He snorted. “Take your time,” he said. “I ain’t going anywhere.”  
  
While Emma wasn’t too sure about leaving Bobby to his own devices, the urgency she felt could not be ignored. She might never get another shot at apologizing. If Sam wasn’t actively hunting, that meant he might not be as distracted – and therefore might want to hear her out. Their reunion could go one of two ways; Emma hoped and prayed that it would turn out good.  
  
It was certainly a risk worth taking. Anything to convince Sam that she still loved him.


End file.
